"Professor Richards clearly knew something... I think... he was aware of these dealings."
Exhaling tiredly, I reload the blaster, double-checking for a full Tibanna cartridge. Aiming on the fly, I align the front sight with the rear. An old habit I didn't want to get rid of.
The pleasant weight of the weapon helped me come to terms with the stupidity and naivety of the little teacher. Having convinced herself that POSSIBLY only one of the instructors was somehow connected to all this, she gave me a single name.
Though it would have been easier to give me the apartment addresses... and by tomorrow we would have already known everything possible about this gang.
But Talia turned out to be a real Bantha—just as stubborn, slow, and dim-witted...
"Ow."
"I can literally feel you thinking nasty things about me!"
"What makes you think that?"
"Hmph!"
Tossing her nose up, the girl marched past me, stopping at the door. For a few seconds, she hesitated before the massive steel barrier, then turned to me sheepishly.
Flushing with shame, she hid her eyes and tried not to look at my mocking face.
"You can proceed. Here... this is where he lives."
"Oh, thanks." Pushing the teacher aside, I ruffle her hair. "What would I do without you..."
My right hand tenses, and the blaster barrel presses against the lock. My left finds the power calibrator and sets the slider to maximum mode, after which my limb moves to the side, showing three fingers.
The countdown began. Three.
The charge builds up. Two.
The blaster vibrates softly in my hand. One.
Shot.
A powerful kick blows the door in, and I burst inside, sweeping the barrel from side to side. Crouching, I move along the wall, always trying to keep multiple corridors in my field of vision.
Not a bad apartment for this professor... Maybe I should have gone into teaching too?
Searching one room after another, I didn't stop monitoring the surroundings and listening to what was happening around me. Somewhere behind the adjacent wall, a quite audible commotion began.
We likely have no more than ten minutes before the local equivalent of the PSS—the Public Safety Service of Super Earth—arrives with arrests. These guys were clearly on edge today when they raided my little companion's flat, and I wouldn't be surprised if they open fire to kill immediately.
The sweep of Richards' apartment didn't yield much; there were no living souls here... but one corpse was found in the last room—the bedroom, where I led Talia.
Covering Professor Richards' body with a sheet, I let the girl inside, allowing her to see the traces of blood and torture instruments scattered everywhere.
I actually had to collect pieces of Richards' body. An unknown psycho had ripped open his chest, clearly digging through the organs, and cut off all his fingers, which I still couldn't find... suspecting the worst. It looked more like a slaughterhouse and insane fetishes than torture.
"Professor Richards..."
The girl's lips trembled. Sitting down next to the bed, she stroked the dead man's dirty hair with her small palm, muttering something quietly under her breath. Probably all this was too much for her... but now was no time for sentimentality; first the search for evidence, then the comfort and tears.
Deciding to leave her alone for a couple of minutes, I begin searching the apartment, and that's where the surprises started.
To start with, I easily found several blasters, thermal detonators, a light armored vest, and key codes for a Z-95 Headhunter that was parked in a hangar near the Academy.
"Blasters, grenades... documents under different names... Your Richards was an interesting person," behind the kitchen dresser was a small gap. Listening to my intuition, I pried it open, discovering a simple stash, designed more for stealth than for reliable protection. "Galactic Republic Credits, Wupiupi, and Peggats... Shit."
I pulled out a small box into the light, inside of which were Richards' most valuable things... if that was indeed his name.
First, there were photographs.
Several men in identical athletic wear.
A girl kissing Richards on the cheek.
A little girl with blue hair hugging his leg.
A simple PDA.
A basic transmitter, though it looked more like an emergency beacon supplied with escape pods.
And a badge of the Judicial Forces Investigative Bureau...
What a hell of a name they have... though, who am I to talk. At Super Earth, every name conveyed all the power and pathos with which democracy can kick you in the balls.
Turning the badge over, I found an identification number and stripes showing that our professor held a decent rank.
"Captain of the JFIB... and nothing else. No name, no origin." Turning the badge in my hands, I return to the bedroom, where Talia had already managed to pull herself together and wash up. The girl had covered the Captain's body with a sheet, hiding his pale and tormented face. "Here, take this. 'Mr. Richards' wasn't so bad after all."
Taking the Judicial Forces badge, the teacher almost burst into tears again. Pressing it to her chest, she muttered to herself about how she could have been so wrong...
Putting my arm around the girl's shoulder, I was suddenly hugged around the waist, and her small head buried itself in my stomach. Hiding her face from me, the little teacher burst into tears, clearly unable to withstand everything that had fallen on her over the last couple of days.
"Let's get out of here; the lawmen will be here soon... They'll take care of the body."
The small box found in the kitchen I decided to keep for myself, along with all its contents. A sixth sense whispered to me that this might still come in handy.
the soft plan of interrogating Richards had failed, and now I definitively told Talia that from here on, we would act in my style. Bringing liberty and democracy to the masses.
To the logical question of how one can forcibly bring democracy, I decided not to answer, but to show by living example.
***
Talia Neris was melancholically sipping Samorian liqueur from a distant planet on the opposite side of the galaxy. Sipping the viscous drink with its bright citrus flavor and hint of smoke, she stared blankly at the ruined cantina, which only ten minutes ago had looked completely different.
Taking a couple of snacks from the plate offered by the bartender, the girl smiled politely at the heavily sweating man, then popped the minty delicacies into her mouth, squinting contentedly and trying not to think about the bad things.
Over the last few days, she had survived so much that what was happening in the cantina didn't bother her much.
"Do you like the taste of freedom?!"
Amidst the crunching and horrific sounds of blows, her new acquaintance was fighting a crowd with a smile on his face, including all the inhabitants of the poor districts. Ship crews, miners, laborers, migrant workers, and others...
His crimson cloak darted across the spacious hall, and he pounced like a Falcon on those trying to escape. Showing everyone his straight white teeth, shouting about holy freedom and equally bestowing it upon everyone, the guy named Sam was beating nearly thirty people with his bare hands.
Well, mostly bare...
Shuddering at the crack of a chair being broken over someone's spine, Talia held out her glass again, and the helpful bartender poured a new portion. This Didionite was a classic representative of his race. A heavy build, three-fingered limbs, pale skin, and a grotesque head with two large eyes on the sides...
And while she didn't have any problems with this, her companion's first reaction had been clear aggression. And he was clearly holding himself back, even if he spoke quite politely and even friendly...
Only, both she and the Didionite realized... if the bartender did even one thing wrong, the mercenary in the crimson cloak wouldn't hesitate. So the plump cantina owner hung around her, fulfilling every whim at the first request. He even opened a rare liqueur for her, which he had clearly been saving for a special occasion...
Well, this occasion is certainly unusual.
Tilting her head to the side, Talia let a bottle fly past her, which shattered against the wall a couple of meters behind her. Melancholy and light intoxication had turned her into a literal island of tranquility, toward which the beaten patrons were gradually crawling.
And it wasn't as if she blamed them for it.
Sam clearly surpassed them. In everything.
Strength of blows. Flexibility. Agility. Technique. And some incomprehensible cruelty, especially toward non-human races. And oh, what he did to those who laughed at his words about democracy.
But the effect of all this barbaric methodology was stunning. Just ten minutes of a good thrashing and already, among the spaceport workers, accomplices of smugglers and pirates are found, easily giving up their contacts in the academy.
That's how she spent this night, sitting on a high bar stool, sipping an expensive bottle of Samorian liqueur, amidst the roar of the beating and the moans of crying mercenaries crawling to her feet, hoping Sam wouldn't touch them.
****
What was the Baobab Merchant Fleet Academy? Well, imagine a mix of a classic institute, a corporation, a mafia, and a uniform for everyone wanting to learn something new.
A wild mix, isn't it?
In essence, it was one of the headquarters of the Baobab Clan, their main investment and strength... if you don't count their huge fleet of ships, of course. Their own infrastructure, almost independent of the Republic. As well as the money and influence they possessed in the nearby sectors in the south and east of the galaxy...
Damn, that turned out to be quite a lot.
Despite their vast capabilities, the Baobabs were quite pacifistic guys, rarely resolving issues through force. As far as I could find out, they preferred intrigue, politics, and other underhanded dealings, where they felt perfectly at home, like fish in water.
So their Academy had a frankly crappy level of protection, especially for an organization of such a level. No, cybersecurity was on point... I'd already found that out through experience. Besides, their entire fleet used a special Baobab language, invented specifically for maintaining confidentiality.
A simple and effective solution... unless, of course, the organization starts rotting from within. Which is exactly what happened.
And so now we were standing in the academy archives, rummaging through the personal files of teachers and students in the most banal way, the ones pointed out to us in the cantina. Talia moved quickly and without problems into the network, deciding to check the video cameras at the same time, trying to find all the records that evidenced violations.
At first, I protested that only idiots would leave so much incriminating evidence on the network...
But it was quickly explained to me that most likely, both in the security service and among these bastards, there are their own people who are being paid off. And they pretend they don't notice anything.
But if they started cleaning everything up... then given the number of illegal deals and other offenses, it would be impossible to hide.
She said a lot more, but I stopped listening to her by the second minute, paying more attention to the free pastry machine for teachers and academy staff.
Having devoured most of the machine's products, I flopped into the chair next to Talia, watching the surroundings out of the corner of my eye through squinted lids.
Locking my hands behind my head, I was about to put my feet up on the table, but then my hearing caught a suspicious rustle, right above us.
My left leg, instead of resting on the table, braced against Talia's chair, causing righteous indignation from the girl, but I didn't listen to her.
A kick sent the chair with the teacher flying to the side, and I pushed off the table with my other leg, easily flying a couple of meters on the crappy chair.
Amidst Talia's scream-shriek, we flew apart as a large body fell onto the computers from above. The crash of breaking furniture didn't hinder me one bit.
Rolling upon landing, I immediately pull out the blaster and open fire in the direction where we had just been sitting.
Laser beams cut through the darkness, striking the body of the unknown attacker. Three laser bolts hit the target, but it did little good.
A horrific howl echoed through the night building of the academy, and in the next moment, I had to dodge the lunge of a huge sword. Only, this was followed by a new blow that swept me off my feet and slammed me into a sofa. The exclusive furniture couldn't withstand such loads and its legs snapped, which saved my life.
A curved blade flew right over my head, shearing off a lock of hair.
Ducking under the body of my much larger opponent, I emptied the entire cartridge into its belly, but only made it angrier.
The beast had several legs and moved quite quickly on them, its paws clicking against the metal floor.
It's a bug!
The clacking of chelicerae. Swings of blade-limbs. That cursed squawking. And the stench. The foul stench of an insect that I would never forget.
Images from memory flashed before my eyes.
Thousands of beasts to the very horizon.
Hordes of Terminids devouring everything in their path.
The screams of my comrades and myself as we were torn to pieces.
Explosions of biological projectiles. The tread of Bile Titans crushing mountains. The buzzing of the wings of small creatures...
"A-A-AGH!"
Switching the blaster to a high-power charge, I dive out from under the bug's legs. Jumping into the air, I simply and without ceremony punch it in its disgusting face, making it stagger.
My muscles ached from the force of the blow. Not sparing my own body, I darted around the bastard, listening to the beeping of the blaster overheating from the long charge-up.
Diving under the insect's belly again, I knock out a couple of legs on the left side, forcing the insect to stagger and fall onto its other side. The time had come.
Like a cat, I climb up its body, onto its broad back, reaching the triangular head. A blow to the spot where the crown of the head should be yields results. The beast screams. It rages and tries to buck me off its back.
But compared to Terminid Chargers, this was just a light rocking.
Grabbing its head, I wrench the insect's skull upward, then shove the blaster into the gaping maw, adding a couple of elbow strikes to the head.
It swings its blades. One mistake and I'll be sliced in half... but the job is done.
Jumping off its back, I stand up to my full height with satisfaction, listening to the warning beep of the weapon.
"Pity, it was a good blaster."
The explosion of Tibanna gas melts the bastard's head and most of its chest. Deformed fragments of the blaster fly into the ceiling, and I am covered in green sludge from head to toe...
A familiar shiver runs through my body. Clenching my right hand into a fist, I thrust it vertically upward to the elbow.
"That was impressive..."
****
And some bastard just had to ruin the moment. My heart was beating to the rhythm of the Super Earth anthem, the adrenaline was redlining, and I was smiling peacefully and warmly...
Now, my eyes squinted from the bright light being switched on. A white, almost medical light illuminated the archive.
Blinking, after a couple of seconds, I found myself surrounded by quite interesting individuals. There were students here, most of whom looked warily at their much more confident, isolated comrades.
Next to them stood several teachers, among whom the director of the entire academy stood out particularly, holding Talia by the hand with a blaster pressed to her head.
In total, nearly twenty people, but I was sure these were only the most lost and arrogant ones, those involved in this shit the deepest.
"That was impressive... Killing a representative of the Yam'rii race, practically with your bare hands." Respectfully pursing and jutting his lips, the director clearly would have applauded me, but Talia struggling in his grip didn't let him relax. "It's almost a pity that Humanity will lose such a specimen, especially against the backdrop of such beasts."
Grimacing with contempt, he glanced at the body of the huge mantis, whose legs occasionally twitched.
Snorting at his words, I relaxed and shoved my hands into my pockets. The fingers of my right palm found the object that gave me confidence.
"Is there going to be a villain speech? Or shall we just end this?"
Shadows flickered in the windows and behind the doors. The archive was being surrounded quickly and I already knew who it was, so I just had to stall for a bit.
"What's the point? You are clearly set on fighting to the end... though such loyalty is incomprehensible to me," jerking the struggling Talia, the director smiled sadly, "as for little Talia, unfortunately, she happened to be here at the exact moment when two thieves decided to settle scores."
"I see."
"You are surprisingly calm." The director actually looked interested, even redirecting the blaster from Talia to me. "Won't you share the secret?"
"Sure." With a nod asking permission, I pulled the activated beacon found in Richards' apartment from my pocket. More precisely, it had been activated even before the fight with the mantis and had been flashing a red light. Now, a pleasant green light glowed on the small device. "You should turn around."
"What—"
At that exact moment, the Judicial Forces SWAT burst into the room, along with Baobab security. Taking everyone at gunpoint, they began pinning students and professors face-down on the floor, shoving blasters in their faces and shouting loudly.
Smells just like Super Earth... Ah, democracy.
Squinting contentedly, I calmly raised my hands above my head, showing the lawmen the beacon and my peaceful intentions.
***
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